


Blue

by orphan_account



Series: RoyEd Week 2019 [1]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Hunters & Hunting, I didn't know it was happening, M/M, Vampire!Ed, Vampires, Witches, sorry im late!!, witch!Roy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-23 22:30:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20245816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Day 1: prompt - Unlikely





	Blue

The heels of Ed's janky, heavyset leather heels clacked against the floor as he moved, brushing swiftly through wooden crates and cardboard boxes. The tops of each were coated in at least an inch thick layer of dust, which fanned out in his wake, following his swift steps. 

Somehow, against all of his precautions, he'd been found out. He'd taken care not to drain any singular person of too much blood, regardless of how delicious; he'd cleared their memories each time, leaving them entranced and to awaken as though from deep meditation, at peace. He avoided cameras, ducked through the shadows, never wore the same clothing twice, always took care to hide his luminous, golden eyes. 

All of that had been for naught, however, it seemed. 

"Come out, come out!" a masculine voice called out giddily. 

He sniffed the air. The man was high as balls off of his own adrenaline and endorphins. 

"We promise we'll play nice!" a feminine voice soon joined. 

He rolled his eyes. 

_Yeah, right_. Hunters never played nice. 

The lights to the old, abandoned warehouse that he'd taken refuge in flickered for a moment before coming fully on, drowning him immediately in brightness as his pupils adjusted from white to pitch black, shrinking in on themselves as he blinked hard. 

Three sets of footsteps moved towards him, each from different directions. The male was moving slowly inwards from the left; the female much quicker from the right. Someone else was in the warehouse, however. They hadn't callled out to him, nor to either of the others. He fell back from the platforms of his feet to his heels, rocking backwards slightly and halting. For a moment, he simply stood, and then he unhinged his jaw, breathing in deeply. 

The witch. 

It had been an honest mistake, his hunt earlier. He'd made the (quite idiotic, if he himself had to say) mistake of assuming that the faint aroma of plantish matter and fading magickal energy around some man, some beautiful man who'd been shopping at Trader Joe's and bumped carts with him, had simply been within range of someone casting. He'd caught a whif of the mix of the scents and the rich, subtly dark tang of the man's blood together while helping him pick a few boxes of microwave cheesy mac off of the floor and fireworks had gone off through his own veins. It had been an otherwordly experience... in the frozen meals aisle, with some old lady in the background asking if he,  he  was alright. 

Granted, being rammed into a refrigerator by a cart full of wine after an old lady pushed the guy into his own, which in turn hit Ed's, probably would warrant that for a human. 

But oh, oh, Ed had been more than fine. After  Roy helped him back up to his feet,  and his hand had been so warm and smooth, oh gods of olde grant mercy,  and  insisted that they sit down and share a lunch in the store's little sit-and-eat area (Ed refused to call it a cafeteria (Cafeterias were Weak and Disgusting and schools should be ashamed of them), they'd swapped numbers and Ed went to call a taxi while Roy drove himself home, claiming to have one more stop for the night. 

All was well and great with that until they realized that they lived in the same apartment when Ed was getting ready to leave his apartment again for an evening hunt just as Roy was stepping into the apartment next door. 

As far as friendly neighbor meet-ups went, that was certainly one of the most entertaining that Ed could've asked for... and also one of the most useful. Or, it was until after Roy had invited him in, and they'd chilled for a solid minute, and Ed ran into the restroom for a quick break to gather his wits, sneaked back behind Roy, and went for the bite-- only to get a knife coated in garlic (Etsy ingredient boxes should not be able to conceal scents so potent!) shoved under his chin, against his own neck. 

Yeah, that definitely wasn't his strongest moment. Still, his reaction wasn't nearly as embarassing as it would've been had milk been involved. 

Heh, better to keep that secret from the hunters. 

He'd only escaped by leaping through Roy's wonderfully open window, free of a screen that had fallen off and had yet to be replaced by their landlord. Mr. Grand would definitely not have been pleased had he broken glass. 

But, back to the present. He'd ultimately decided, in the city's park, to carry on his usual hunting schedule as though nothing had happened, adamantly ignoring the vibrations from his phone. It could be his brother, it could be his mechanic, or it could be-- preferably not Roy. 

The good thing was that it had stopped. 

The bad thing was that he was being hunted. 

Also bad, was that there was only one entrance to the warehouse. 

Ed really didn't want to have to leave any dead bodies that night. 

Neither of the hunters said anything more, but Edward could hear them moving, could feel the vibrations of their every step and movement through the cement, through the very air. All at once, he was in quick motion again, ducking and swaying around aisles and groupings, never out in the open for more than half of a second. He looped around a few areas to avoid being caught, they never too far away or at the right angles for him to make his break. The third person moved almost as swiftly as he, but neither as quietly nor as fluidly. 

They served as a wonderful distraction until he caught their scent in the dust on their own tailwinds. 

_Roy_. 

He mentally cursed under his breath, not actually daring to part his lips for fear of discovery. What the hell was that bastard doing out here? Had he been following him all night? Had he called for the hunt? Certainly, he couldn't be trying to help matters after Ed tried to bite him... could he? 

Directly after the fact, Roy hadn't looked mad, just... fearful and desperate, but there'd been a spark of fire in his dark eyes even a drop of anxious sweat dripped down his face, even as his fingers shook. His stance had been firm, his movements certain. He was human, for certain, but there'd been something raw there, raw and refined and strong and... a light of understanding, in his face, if not forgiving. 

Suddenly, a cold air hit Ed from the side, and he turned. The big doors to the warehouse had been left wide open, the chirping of crickets and cicadas and the hoot of an owl audible to his finely tuned ears. His heart pounded in his ears. Or, really, not his heart, but his core. 

He could break for it. He really could. The hunters would see him, and Roy would be left alone, and by now, for certain they'd heard him. But, he could always play the part of the confused, scared prey. The promise of Ed would presumably lure them away-- or, perhaps not, and Roy could be left alone, and even their human noses would be able to sniff out the telltale signs on him. 

No, Ed simply couldn't do that to him. He thought of the photos that Roy had had set on his mantle, of he and some child, the child that he'd said was out spending the night at a friend's for the first time-- Elicia, her name was, the daughter of Roy's deceased and widow, of whom he shared custody with. He thought of the wooden wall decorum of a deer on the wall above the sofa, of all of the flowers blooming in the light of the same window he'd jumped out of, and in the window behind which an old, antiquated desk that seemed rarely used but kept treasuringly well sat grand. He thought of the piano in the corner of the room, jutting outward classily from the meeting of the walls, and of the widescreen TV and bone and glass coffee table and nice, leather sofa that Roy had plopped down on before it, encouraging Ed to do the same over some nice herbal tea. He thought of the way that the light from the windows shone in his eyes, highlighting his skin and simultaneously illuminating and shadowing his form, contouring in whitish gold amongst the black, brick, and lavender accents of the living room. 

_Fuck_. 

Ed grit his teeth together, forcefully willing his sharper fangs to retract. His hands formed into fists. 

This wasn't good. It was unlikely that Roy was there to save him, but t didn't matter if he was mad at him or had decided that he didn't like him; he was a hormonal immortal and he had a  problem with cute, deliciously smelling guys who bumped into him consequently of being bumped into by helpless, frail old ladies who smelled like cheap perfume, oily felines, and... whatever that weird smell of papery, thin skin was. 

_Gods of old, fucking damn it all_. 

He finally parted his lips, blepping his split tongue out to taste the air. The hunters seemed ill-prepared, in hindsight; they had weapons of iron and... that was it? 

He almost snorted, turning on his left toe. This would be a cake walk, surely. 

His mind having apparently made up its own decision, he jolted forwards, taking off in the direction of the closer, the guy. There appeared to only be one row of crates between them, and Ed smirked, reaching out with one hand and leaping into the air, grabbing onto it and swinging his ridiculously light, supernatural weight overtop of it. He landed just in front of the man, catching sight of started brown eyes in a freckled face as the man reared back, raising a gun to shoot. Faster than he could move, Ed swung his leg, the studded back of his heel hitting against the man's face and sending him hurling into the crates, knocking the entire row over as the force of the collision knocked him back. 

"Darrel!" the woman screeched, running through the maze, trying to find them. 

Ed bent down over the man's face, studying his breath. He looked around himself quickly, noting how the walkways around him seemed a bit... blurred, too low and to the right. A perception altering spell had been cast. 

He turned his attention back to the man, reaching out and gently pulling apart the lids of his eyes. He seemed to have escaped the possible concussion that some humane part of Ed had feared, and he breathed a sigh of relief, standing up and surveying the damage. 

Only that one row had been collapsed, which was good, probably. 

From somewhere else, and startlingly, uncomfortably, Ed couldn't tell where, the woman screamed. 

Walking through the spell was like walking through an old church, if only it were foggy inside and he were high. It was disorienting, the distance to the ceiling, the boxes and crates that his senses were certain were spinning around him but his mind knew logically were perfectly still in their places. On occasion, he'd hear a sound;  then, suddenly, the spell broke. 

Blue flames licked up the walls, tearing through the boxes and crates. Ed leapt back in alarm, his eyes wide and his pupils white once more. 

Well, he certainly hadn't anticipated that. 

"_H-aaagh!_" a familiar voice yelled. 

His heart skipped a beat. It was Roy's. 

Glancing back, Ed searched for the young hunter among the mess that he'd left behind, finding no one. He turned his face upward, carefully sniffing the air, searching. Both hunters were gone. 

White-tipped blue flame licked up the walls, reaching out towards him. He centered back into himself, preparing to bolt out. However, before he could, he realized that even if the hunters were gone, Roy was not. 

He spun back around and began to walk, searching further within the warehouse. Within the midst of the odd flames that curled around his feet, he couldn't hear, and he couldn't sense. It were as though the dust particles he'd leaned off of earlier had been gathered by the fire, and the air was no longer molecular. 

There was the sound of fingers snapping behind him. He whirled around to see the witch, standing in the center of rows and columns of burning blue, like some pattern of the sun or a halo bigger than the life he presented. 

The witch licked his lips. 

"Well, then, Mr. Elric," Roy murmured, his voice silky smooth. 

Edward could hear it clearly regardless, the soft and deep intonation lighting his nerves on fire. 

"You wanna head back to my place and grab a drink?" 

Ed let out a breath that he hadn't known he'd been holding in. 

It had seemed unlikely, at first, but perhaps they could talk things through.


End file.
